The Fourth Carmine
by Moonlit Hunter
Summary: A mistake in a fuinjutsu array often has unexpected consequences, and when Minato makes a mistake during the sealing of the Kyuubi, it sends the newborn Naruto to a world rife with a war unlike any that Elemental Nations has ever seen. There are four Carmine brothers, three of which we have met. Prepare to meet the fourth in a story of Adventure, Family, War, and maybe even Love!
1. Welcome to Sera

**_Alright, so this is my first fanfiction. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, leave a reply and I will see what I can do._**

 _ **I do not own Naruto or Gears of War**_

The Fourth Carmine

For the vast majority of the Elemental Nations, the tenth of October was but another day in the many others in the year, but there was one exception. Konohagakure no Sato was in flames, and despite being called the Land of Fire, this was definitely _NOT_ normal. The reason behind the flames and the other various destruction that spread across nearly a third of the village was caused by the Kyuubi no Kitsune, or the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox. Massive white claws tore up the landscape while gale-force winds, caused by the beast's massive rust colored tails, served to spread the flames and topple structures, as well as blowing back those ninja unfortunate enough to not have sturdy and substantial cover at the time. Teeth, nearly as large as its claws, tore apart any ninja unfortunate enough to get near its maw. The shinobi and kunoichi of Konoha were fighting valiantly against their foe, despite their almost certain demise. Although the sounds of battle permeated the air, the rivaled sound of the dying, the wounded, and the mourning could easily be heard beneath the frenzied combat.

Many of the screams soon turned to cheers as the Fourth Hokage appeared in a flash of brilliant yellow light. The Fourth Hokage, who went by the name of Minato Namikaze, was considered to be one of the greatest shinobi in Konoha, and perhaps even in all of the Elemental Nations. Alongside him, or underneath him, was Gamabunta, the boss summon of the Toad summoning clan; one of their fiercest warriors and the longtime friend of Minato. Gamabunta was a rust colored toad of massive stature, larger than the vast majority of the buildings in Konoha. A long scar, worn proudly, adorned his face travelling from the near top of his head through his left eye and past the left corner of his mouth, stopping just after his jawline. A dark blue happi vest with white trim adorned his body, and a large pipe hung loosely from his lips. Across his back was a massive tanto, as Gamabunta was tall, its hilt and sheath were a greyish white, with nary a flaw to be found.

Upon looking around, Gamabunta knew why he was summoned, and he was none too pleased. "You've GOT to be kidding me here, right?" Gamabunta said in disbelief.

"I'm afraid I'm not," Minato said with a tired sight. "I need you to hold him, for just a moment. I've got a plan to seal this thing, but I can't do it here." Gamabunta grunted in response, and charged the Kyuubi with a speed ridiculous to what one might expect of a creature his size. The Kyuubi, too focused on destruction, didn't notice the massive toad and the rider on its head rushing towards it until Gamabunta's shoulder crashed into the Kyuubi's upper chest. With the element of surprise on his hands, Gamabunta quickly started grappling with the Kyuubi, attempting to hold the beast long enough for Minato to do whatever he was planning on doing.

Thankfully for Gamabunta, the Kyuubi didn't have much time to resist, as Minato quickly used his signature technique, the Hiraishin no jutsu, or the Flying Thunder-God technique, and transported the Kyuubi to a far off and unknown location (to Gamabunta and any other observers, at least). Despite the fact that the Kyuubi never got an attack off on Gamabunta, he was still injured. By touching the Kyuubi, even for a short period of time, the skin on Gamabunta's hands, arms, and chest were burned. The Kyuubi's chakra was purely demonic and highly corrosive. Regular chakra, the building blocks of the shinobi forces and life as the citizens of the Elemental Nations knew it, would never have this effect. This demonic chakra could only be found in nine beings: the nine Bijuu, each different than the last and each controlled by a hidden village against their will. With Gamabunta's injuries, he disappeared into a massive cloud of smoke, back to his home to recover.

Minato had just transported himself and the Kyuubi to a secluded location, a clearing far away from the nearly torn apart village and its people. The clearing was not empty when Minato and the Kyuubi appeared, there were two others. One, a red haired female who looked like she'd just run 2 triathlons in one day with not even an hours rest. Two, a small baby, not even half a day old, with a head of golden yellow hair. These two people, (SPOILER ALERT (hardly, but hey)), Kushina Uzumaki-Namikaze and Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze respectively. Naruto was in a non-descript crib on what appeared to be some sort of alter of stone, which was covered in strange black markings that would appear to be just random scribbles on the ground to the untrained eye. In truth the squiggles and markings surrounding the stone alter were a highly complex fuinjutsu (sealing techniques) formulae, whose purpose was known only to the two adults.

As soon as Minato and the Kyuubi appeared in the clearing, Minato yelled out, "Now Kushina!" As soon as those words rang out, Kushina gave a pained grimace as golden chains of pure chakra burst forth from her body. These chains quickly wrapped around wrapped around the Kyuubi's form, and attempted to restrain the Kyuubi for what was to come. The Kyuubi put up much resistance and Kushina's grip with her chains grew weak. Here, Minato used his Hiraishin to teleport himself in front of the crib/alter, and began a series of hand signs.

As Kushina's chains and her body weakened, the Kyuubi took the opportunity to use one of its many tails to take a swing at her and Minato. Minato got out of the way without much trouble, although he had to take a pause in his hand seals to do so, but Kushina wasn't quite so lucky. The Kyuubi's tail smashed right into Kushina with immeasurable force and sent her, and her chains, crashing through a few large trees nearby. One might wonder how someone could _possibly_ survive being sent through massive trees such as these, but ninja are made of sterner stuff, and Uzumaki are made sterner still.

Minato, seeing the love of his life being attacked with such viciousness cried out in worry and rushed through the seals even quicker than before, panic and anger fueling his intricate movements. After a few moments of wondering what the hell had just hit her, Kushina rose up from her sprawled position on the forest floor.

"Ooooh that damn fox! Just wait until I get my hands on you again, 'ttebane!" Kushina exclaimed with a fiery anger. She rushed back towards the clearing as fast as her physically exhausted body could take her and arrived just as the Kyuubi thrust one of his massive claws towards Naruto's small infant body and Minato's form, which happened to be lined up quite nicely with his son's. With all the speed of motherly instinct, Kushina rushed as quickly as possible and leapt in front of the Kyuubi's claws in a vain attempt to stop it from hurting her precious child.

Minato, having finished all of the hand seals, yelled out, "SHIKI FUJIN (Dead Demon Consuming Seal)!" At these words, the previously black markings and symbols started to glow like embers of a raging fire. The markings twisted and turned and before long a ghostly image appeared behind Minato. The image appeared to be a ghoul cloaked in a white robe with long, wild, white hair, through which two red horns protruded. In its toothy jaw resided a small, dagger like object. The ethereal creature reached out a long, gangly arm towards the Kyuubi, whose claw inched closer and closer towards the young infant on the alter. The ethereal being, just as Kushina leapt in front of the incoming claw, grasped the Kyuubi and began to tear its volatile chakra in two.

The Kyuubi whose momentum couldn't possibly be stopped with just a single touch, continued onward to pierce both Minato's and Kushina's abdomens, spelling an almost certain death for the both of them. Naruto's small body, however, was spared due to the resistance of his parents bodies against the claw, as well as the Kyuubi no longer thrusting towards him. The claw sopped mere inches away from his tiny head.

The Kyuubi, meanwhile, was thrashing around, attempting to dislodge the specters hand from its body to no avail. The specter was finished with the first part of its task, ripping the Kyuubi's chakra in two, and now started with the second task, shoving the two severed halves into two of the three humans before it. One half was thrust none too gently into Minato's still breathing body, and the other went into young Naruto who still rested peacefully on the crib/alter. However, something strange happened when the specter reached towards Minato to complete its third and final task.

As the specter reached into Minato's back to retrieve his soul, which was the price necessary for the Shiki Fujin, the scripture of the seal array across the ground started glowing white, and lifted off of the partially blood soaked ground. The scripture now swirling wildly around the alter, compressing in on itself. It started slowly at first, but grew quicker and quicker. By the time the whirling scripture reached the diameter of a baseball, the Kyuubi's physical form had disappeared, and Minato and Kushina fell to the ground in a bloodied heap. As quickly as possible, Kushina crawled towards her baby boy, so that she could hold him at least once more before she passed on the next world.

As soon as Kushina cradled Naruto to her chest with tears streaming down her paling face, the specter finished taking Minato's soul. His time in this world was up. His last vision in life was the condensed scripture of his sealing technique bursting form a near blinding white light, engulfing his wife and newborn child. When the light died down, there was nothing but blood and trees.

'Where did they go? What the hell went wrong? The technique wasn't supposed to do this!' Minato thought mutely. With the last of his breath, Minato whispered to whatever deity he thought that might be listening, "Please…. Let them be safe…" With these words and a single tear falling softly from his now dim eyes, Minato Namikaze, fourth Hokage of Konohagakure no Sato, the Yellow Flash, was no more. When the body of Minato was found, his village knew not how he fell, nor the fate of his family. All they knew was that the Kyuubi was gone and the village was safe for another day.

* * *

In another dimension, another world, and another time, the setting was strikingly similar to the first. Buildings burning, the bodies of the dead and injured were strewn across the streets, and the sounds of fighting permeated the air. However, there were several key differences. First of all, there was no colossal beast of pure malevolent energy attacking. Second, the sound of fighting was much louder, with the sounds akin to the sound of a very loud, snapping broomsticks against stone surfaces. Third, the sky was blocked out not with smoke, but dog-sized, black, floating creatures that resembled some sort of amalgamated octopus or squid. They were everywhere, and occasionally several would come hurtling towards the earth and explode violently. Lastly, this was not just one city under attack, but an entire world.

The world of Sera was burning, and the blood of its inhabitance ran like wide rivers throughout every established city. The city we find ourselves in at the moment, however, was known as Jasper, a northern port town in the country of Tyrus, capital country of the Coalition of Ordered Governments, or COG, for short. The COG have been fighting a furious war, or slaughter depending on who one talked too, against a previously unknown foe, the Locust, who had emerged from the ground just six months prior and immediately started warring against the Humans of Sera.

The gears, as the soldiers of the COG army were called, were just ambushed after clearing out a medium sized Locust force. They had been sent to the area to evacuate all the civilians that they could find, but the vast majority of those they found had been quite literally torn apart or riddled with so many holes that they might as well have been a pile of bloody mulch. Soon after the ambush started is when Kushina and Naruto were found.

A rather medium sized muscular teenager, dawning darkish blue and grey armor with a similarly colored helmet and baby blue eye lenses had just taken cover in a nearby house from a few Locust forces that had slaughtered his squad with their MK-1 Hammerburst assault rifles. Panting, he attempted to quickly reload his shiny new MK-2 Lancer assault rifle, which was only recently released among the COG forces, equipped with a vicious chainsaw bayonet. However, panic and mass amounts of adrenaline caused him to drop his clip. His last clip, to be specific.

"Aw shit!" The teen yelled in a hushed voice. He quickly dropped to his hands and knees, trying to find his clip in the unnatural darkness. His near-frantic search led him to the next room, where upon finding his final clip, cried out, "Aw HELL yes!" Silence followed this exclamation; no sounds of fighting, no cries of pain, no nothing. This silence did nothing to calm the teen's nerves, as he took the next moment to gaze upon his new surroundings. The architecture of the room was classic of the average Tyrus home. A concrete base, wooden walls, a fireplace, etc. The décor was rather average as well; paintings of ships on the walls, knickknacks on the mantle above the fireplace, random scribbles and symbols of an unknown language surrounding a nearly blood-soaked red haired lady, stripped wallpaper…Wait, what?

The teen rushed towards the bloodied red head, and quickly checked for a pulse. The second that he touched her, her hand shot up and roughly grabbed his shoulder. Her head rose and amethyst eyes, still bright despite the massive amounts of blood surrounding her, pierced through the lenses of the teen's helmet and fully capturing his gaze. The teen, started with the sudden movement, tried to pull away. However, the woman was much, MUCH stronger than she appeared, and kept the teen from going anywhere.

The woman mumbled something of which the teen could not quite hear. "Hey, are you okay? I need to get you out of here, and ASAP!" The teen told the woman. However, she did not get up, nor try. Instead, she started to pull the teen closer, and said what she had before, only louder. Unfortunately, the teen had no freakin' clue what the hell this lady was saying, as he didn't speak the language that she did.

"Lady, you need help! We've got to hurry, the Grubs could come in any second now!" The teen stated in a hurried tone. The woman made no motion of comprehension as she produced a bloodied blanket from her bosom, and pushed the child towards the teen. Once again, she stated the same words in her unknown language, and it was there that the teen got the gist of what the lady was trying to do.

"Are you kidding me? It's a war-zone out there! I can't take him!" The teen nearly yelled, but the lady wouldn't budge. Instead she reached down into the ever expanding pool of her own blood, and started to draw a strange symbol on her neck. The symbol was similar to those that the teen saw on the walls. When the lady finished, the bizarre symbol glowed orange, and a soft, pained voice sounded throughout the room.

"Take him… Please… Protect him… Protect my little Naruto…" The lady whispered, her voice and eyes desperate. After a moment of consideration, as well as slight amazement at her random action and newfound ability to speak English, the teen nodded, sheathing his Lancer on the magnetic holder on his back and took up little baby Naruto in one hand, drawing his Snub pistol with the other.

With this, the lady gave a soft smile, her teeth stained red with her own blood. Kushina ran her fingers gently over the whiskered cheeks of her child, telling him to always eat his vegetables, to always to what he felt was right, and many other words of wisdom that she would be unable to give him later in his life. She apologized to the child while tears spilled freely from her dimming eyes, telling him of how sorry she was that she wouldn't be there for him, that she wouldn't get to shower him with all the love she could manage. Her breathing slowed with every phrase until her last, where she told Naruto that she loved him with all of her heart and more, and that she would always be with him no matter what. Her eyes closed for the last time, and her hand slipped from Naruto's serene face and falling to the ground. Kushina Uzumaki-Namikaze was no more, leaving this world for the next with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

The child, who was previously asleep, awoke to being wet, sticky and none too pleased, and started to cry. The teen tried to comfort the child, but to little avail. Just then, the teen's previously dark radio sounded.

"Omega, Om –kssh–, do you read?" The teen quickly reached up with his pistol-armed hand and pressed a button near where his ear would be.

"Command, this is Private Carmine, reporting!" The newly identified teen stated.

"What's your statu –kss– vate?" Asked Command, the voice on the other side distraught.

"The rest of my squad is K.I.A, I found a civvie in a house that I took cover in. Orders sir?"

"Briga –kssss– arkin has issued a retreat order, get your ass and that civ –kssss– back to the Centaurs immed –ksskskksss–" With that, the radio went down.

Carmine checked his Snub pistol clip, and thought to himself, 'This is going to suuuuuuuuuuuck…" and sprinted outside of the room, and subsequently the safety of the house.


	2. Welcome to the War

_**Question,**_ ** _Comments and/or Concerns? Leave me a reply/comment._**

 ** _I do not own Naruto or Gears of War_**

The Fourth Carmine

* * *

" _Humans"_ – Locusts speaking their native tongue.

* * *

The second that Private Carmine left the house, his ears were assaulted by the sounds of warfare once again, albeit more subdued. Strangely enough, the baby that he held in one arm was sound asleep, unknowing and uncaring of the potential danger he was currently in. It was a good thing too, as a crying babe would alert any passing Locust patrol of both their presences. He was good soldier, but he doubted that he would be able to take down an entire squad of grubs by himself with only a pistol, no cover, and a baby cradled on his arm. 'What a story that would make…" Carmine thought to himself before remembering that only survivors got to tell their tales.

Placing his back to an intact stone retaining wall opposite of the house, Carmine decided that he needed a plan of action; a plan of survival. Should he go back the way he came? Would the grubs that decimated his squad still be there, or would they have already moved on? Perhaps he should forge a new path to the Centaurs? Maybe he could find another squad of Gears? There is safety in numbers after all… Nodding his head, Carmine took to the left towards unknown territory. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

Carmine paused, 'On second thought, I probably just jinxed myself. This is a fucking war, the worst that could happen is that I get other people killed, myself killed, and/or this kid killed. Hell no! I'm going solo here!' Carmine decided promptly. Turning around with a determined gleam in his eye, Carmine started going back the way he came, his shoulder/back pressed firmly against the stone wall.

It was not long until he came upon the site of the ambush that killed the rest of his squad. The way that they were slaughtered made Carmine's blood boil. They were caught in the open with hardly any cover to speak for. Corporal Teyrin, their squad leader, had been the first to fall, catching a few rounds to the lungs before any of the squad knew there were even enemies around. His was the worst death; spending the last minutes of his life gasping for the air that wouldn't stay, later suffocating as his lungs filled with his own blood. Haynes died next, getting caught inside a Bola grenade's radius as it exploded. His death was quick from what Carmine could tell; no way getting your torso vaporized with shrapnel was a slow death. Lastly was Thomas, the only one that Carmine had any sort of kinship with in his squad. The crazy bastard ran into an entire group of Grubs with his precious Gnasher Shotgun while Carmine tried to cover him. He was able to pin several Grubs down for long enough to get Thomas into shotgun range, but he didn't last very long after Carmine's Lancer jammed while he was trying to reload quicker. He ran as fast as he could into the buildings soon after clearing the jam, abandoning Thomas to his fate.

It sat like a boulder in Carmine's stomach knowing that his cowardice and poor handwork had let Thomas down. Carmine didn't think that he'd be able to stomach being near Thomas's corpse knowing that it could very well be his fault that Thomas was dead in the first place.

Shaking away the bitter and self-revolting thoughts, Carmine carefully examined the surrounding area. Seeing no signs of any life whatsoever, with the exception to the octopus creatures floating in the sky, Carmine and his small ward stepped away from cover.

Carmine entertained the idea of collecting the I.D. tags of his fellow Gears, but thought better of it. He doubted that this location would be as safe as it was for much longer, and he did _NOT_ want to be there when things went sour again. Then again, Corporal Teyrin's body was along the way, and it wouldn't be take too long to rip off his tags. Carmine had no desire to rifle through the meat that was once Hayne's chest in search of his tags. He honestly doubted that they would've survived the blast in the first place anyway. Thomas's body… Carmine didn't think that he would be able to look at what those damned Grubs had left of him. He would just have to leave him where he was and pray for forgiveness once he had gotten both himself and the baby out of this god-forsaken city.

The next 30 minutes were relatively quiet and stressful. While Carmine did not encounter any Locust, he did find several other Gears. Sadly, they all happened to be less alive than Carmine hoped. A quick glance at their ashen faces told Carmine nothing of their identities. Carmine wanted to gather their COG tags, he really did, but he knew that the longer he stayed in one place the better the chances were that he would be found by the Grubs. He moved on.

Carmine soon came upon an intersection in the road, which split the road that he was currently on, Poloan St, if he recalled correctly, into two diagonal branches. To the left was Market St, the road that he and his squad had traversed early in the day. His squad hadn't experienced much trouble down that street, but it looked like a few mortar crews had targets in the area recently, as much of the buildings on the left-hand side were partially destroyed.

Collapsed walls, sunken roofs, and exposed rooms… who knows who or what could have slinked into the now open buildings, waiting to splatter their blood across the cobblestone street. "Too risky," mumbled Carmine as he turned his attention to the path on his right.

The next street sign read 'Boughs Blvd'. It was a narrower street than Market, and the surrounding buildings were a lot less destroyed. In fact, the only signs of war on this street was the closed-up E-Hole and a few dead bodies of civilians. Spotting a corpse by a nearby mail car, Carmine rushed as quickly and as quietly as possible and plunked himself within arms-reach of the poor departed soul. Setting his pistol on the ground, Carmine felt the dead man's exposed skin, hoping to be able to guess how long his body had been dead, and subsequently how long ago the Grubs that killed him had come and hopefully gone. The man was stone cold, hopefully having kicked the bucket hours ago. With this new information, Carmine decided that this would be a much better path to take than the other, which was possibly still hot with activity, or even just slightly-warm.

Pulling up his mental map of the area, detailed greatly through the few hours of studying done prior to deployment, Carmine remembered that this particular boulevard eventually met up with one of the roads that he needed to take to get back to the Centaurs. Certain of his new path, Carmine re-equipped his pistol and cautiously stepped over the deceased man while keeping his back to the long side of the stout mail truck. The coast remained clear.

In fact, the coast remained clear for several blocks. Carmine didn't know whether or not the invasion of Jasper was over and all the Grubs had retreated. Maybe he was just incredibly lucky? Hell, he didn't really care at the moment! No one was shooting at him and he hadn't found anymore. In fact, things around the area were very quiet, much like it would have been on a sleepy summer morning during that short, sweet period between wars. It was too quiet… until an odd chittering sound broke the silence behind them.

"The hell is that…?" Carmine murmured to himself as he turned around, trying to find the source. Skittering towards him and the child he held was a grotesque, quadrupedal creature about the same height as a medium-sized dog with slate gray flesh. Its forelegs were thin and long, ending in three sharp claws. On top of the small creature was a canister of a luminescent pale-yellow liquid, which was seemingly fused or welded to the skittering creature's back. Putrid yellow teeth shown in the creature's mouth were locked in a permanent grimace… or was it a malicious grin? Carmine couldn't tell, nor did he want to find out.

"Holy shit, is that Imulsion?" Carmine whispered in wonder. Wonder quickly turned into fear as the creature gave a shriek and charged directly at Carmine and his young ward. Quickly drawing a bead on the fast, chittering creature, Carmine pulled the trigger of his Snub pistol. The round quickly struck the creature which promptly exploded, quite literally, in a shower of gore.

Carmine went wide-eyed behind his helmet. If that thing had exploded anywhere near him, he'd be toast, and not the good kind! He would have to be extra vigilant from her on out. Quickly sparing a glance down at the swaddled infant in his arms, he noticed that somehow, despite the rather loud explosion that went off less than 10 feet away, the child still slept soundly. Carmine couldn't help but wish that his younger brothers could've slept half as soundly this one did.

Carmine stirred himself away from pleasant thoughts of home nearly as soon as they came, just in time to hear multiple instances of the same skittering sounds that that creepy little critter had made just before nearly blowing him up seconds earlier.

'First time was easy enough,' Carmine thought to himself as one of the creatures popped out of the doggy door of a nearby house. 'Second time around should be about the same.' As he drew another bead on the creature, he saw a second one come out of the same doggy door. And then a third, and then a fourth. Soon enough, nearly a dozen of the creepy creatures littered the street, skittering back and forth and chittering to each other. Not thirty seconds later, the creatures saw him and charged, giving out the same horrid shriek as their fallen brother let out.

Carmine back peddled as he fired shot after shot, each round either hitting its mark or missing by a small margin. An explosion followed every successful hit, knocking away and stunning any surrounding monstrosities. How there wasn't a chain reaction of explosions, Carmine didn't know. There was no time to dwell on such things, as each second wasted on thinking was one less spent on dodging exploding monsters from hell.

Carmine broke into a cold sweat at the sound of his pistol clicking. While this wouldn't normally be a problem, seeing as every COG soldier was at least proficient in normal reloading, basic training did _not_ teach him how to reload a gun using only one hand. In addition, how the hell was he supposed to combat roll with a child on him? Carmine was about to get trained in both under fire. Or in this case, explosions.

One of the 6 remaining skittery bastards got close while Carmine was distracted. Two previously hidden pipes ignited near the open ends. The rolling did not turn out to be as difficult as Carmine thought it would be, but it did limit which directions he would be able to dodge. The explosion that the creature caused was hot, and a small piece of shrapnel nicked his arm. Carmine gave no indication of noticing as he was too focused on trying to figure out how the hell he was going to reload his damn weapon! If only he was trained for this!

By the time that Carmine finally got his weapon reloaded, he had successfully jammed and un-jammed his weapon three times, all the while dodging three more of the exploding horrors. Turning his focus to the remainder of the creatures, Carmine put a round each into his small enemies, smiling and panting lightly with satisfaction released nerves as the remaining two exploded a safe distance away from him and his young charge.

Carmine's smile soon broke into a small series of giggles, falling to the ground in a sitting position as the excess adrenalin exited his body. He couldn't believe it! He must be one hell of a badass to survive _THAT_ mess! As the echoes of his fight and his light laughter faded away, silence once again ruled the street. Carmine took this calm moment to check up the sleeping baby cradled in his arms.

The child was swaddled in a light tan cloth, partially soaked in the dried, deep crimson blood of his mother. He had a round face with three lines on each cheek which resembled whiskers. A tuft of brilliant blond hair could be seen underneath the cloth. Lastly, the boy, Naruto, if Carmine remembered correctly, had a small button nose, which reminded Carmine a great deal of his youngest brother's nose: perfect for booping. He couldn't resist, lightly tapping Naruto's nose with his forefinger.

As Carmine's cloth covered finger lightly tapped the child's nose, Naruto stirred for the first time since shortly after his birth. His face scrunched up for a moment, and his eyes slowly opened for the first time. He had amethyst colored eyes, a shade just a tad darker than his mother's, which gazed upon Carmine's masked face with curiosity.

Before Carmine could do anything else, he felt something long and sharp pierce through his body armor and deep into his lower back. He let out a loud gasp of pain and shock, quickly rolling sloppily to his feet. Behind him was the last of the exploding creatures, one that he had somehow missed or forgotten about, it's right forearm/foreclaw slicked red with Carmine's blood.

The creature shrieked out and charged at Carmine, pipes blazing in preparation for it's suicide charge. Carmine spewed a long string of obscenities as he fumbled with his sidearm, unable to cleanly pull it off the magnetic holster on his leg.

In desperation Carmine lashed out with his left leg, punting the charging creature with all his might. Instead of it exploding violently upon impact like Carmine had dreaded, the creature bounced right off his leg and sailed across the street, smacking the stone wall of a two-story house with a crunch. Carmine ripped his pistol off its holster and fired three shots into the unmoving creature causing it to violently explode, heavily damaging the wall nearby.

"YEEEEAAAAHAHAHAHAH! TAKE THAT YOU LITTLE FUCK!" Carmine exclaimed with vigor as he fired a few celebratory rounds into the sky. He then proceeded to foolishly do a small jig in the middle of the street in celebration of his unlikely and small victory.

However, the sudden motions and incredibly loud noises had startled Naruto, causing him to start wailing as any baby would do under the circumstances. This quickly brought Carmine back to his senses, and immediately did what he could do to get Naruto to quiet down, to no avail.

With his attention focused on Naruto, Carmine did not notice that the damaged wall behind him starting to collapse. With a mighty crash the formerly sturdy wall collapsed, taking part of the second floor and the roof with it. As the dust cleared, Carmine saw something that he hoped he would never see: inside the building was a small squad of four Locust soldiers, staring at him with shocked expressions.

 _Moments prior_

The Locust group were taking a well-deserved break from the tiring invasion of the surface city by holding up in a random human building. The group was composed of a Drone, a Sniper, a Grenadier, and most surprisingly, a Theron Sentinel. The Theron, equipped with a heavy black and red cuirass, a rounded helm which covered all of his head sans the mouth, and an unloaded Torque Bow sheathed on a magnetic holster located on the small of his back. Said Theron was playing the Locust version of G0-Fish with the sparsely armored and heavily muscled Grenadier, who had brought the leather-crafted cards from his home in the Hollow. Both sat at a convenient wooden table at the center of the room.

The Sniper and the Drone both had light armor on and were nearly identical visually, with the exception to the tinted eye goggles that protected the Sniper's keen vision. The Sniper had his Longshot sheathed and had gone off to find and raid the food storage areas that the humans surely kept in the house. The Drone stood more or less at attention near the table where the Grenadier and the Theron played, Hammerburst rifle knocked in his arms and ready to fire at a moment's notice.

The Drone was nervous, he could hear the telltale sounds of combat outside but the Theron, de facto leader of the group, felt it was not worth the time nor the trouble to take care of it, stating that the Tickers would be enough. The Drone nervously readjusted his grip on his standard issue rifle as a loud explosion sounded in the streets outside.

" _Sir, that sounded incredibly close! Shouldn't we at least look?_ " The Drone whispered nervously, shuffling in his spot.

The Grenadier and the Theron both spared him a glance before the Grenadier burst out in ill-natured laughter while the Theron merely shifted his gaze back to his cards. " _Look you grunt,_ " the Grenadier said with a sneer. " _It doesn't matter if a few humans survive this day. They'll all fall soon enough!_ " the Grenadier ended with a harsh chuckle, lightly clacking the trio of Bolo grenades at his side in a threatening manner.

" _Got any three's?_ " asked the Theron with a shit-eating grin, as if he had already known that the Grenadier had one.

The Grenadier snarled before slapping his card against the table. " _Every fucking time. How in the Worm's shit do you do that?!_ "

The Theron merely grinned and leaned back into his chair, keeping silent as the Grenadier fumed. Gunfire and explosions sounded outside the house, causing the Drone to flinch. The sounds were getting close to their resting spot, but one look from the Grenadier scared away whatever the Drone was going to say.

At this point, the Sniper came back from the human's kitchen holding a bone-white plate with a large triangular slice of three-layered brown food. Using a fork, he took a dainty bite, for a Locust at least. The Sniper groaned in contentment.

" _Say what you want about these humans,_ " the Sniper said, lifting the fork to take a much larger bite from his food. " _But they sure do have some delicious foodstuffs!_ "

The Drone shook his head in wonderment and took a step away from the group of three, wondering how the hell he got himself stuck with this bizarre group. ' _Oh right… they needed cannon fodder..._ ' All Drones stayed Drones until they proved themselves in combat to be selected for specialized training. The Drone's standard issue grey and red leather cuirass was shiny and new, denoting that this was his first deployment. He had been able to show nothing special, and he never would if he was cooped up like this!

As the Sniper took a third chunk from his treat with his fork, a powerful force shook the stone wall leading towards the street outside. All of them then heard a single human yelling, like it was taunting them. Before the Drone could start making his way towards the door, the wall shuddered with a groan and collapsed, kicking up mortar dust and debris which clogged the Grenadier and the Drone's vision. As the dust cleared from the area and from the afflicted eyes, the four Locust saw a single, blue armor-clad individual, staring at them.

 _Back to the present_

After a long moment's pause which seemed like an eternity, Carmine sprang into action. He immediately put three bullets into the one holding a Hammerburst with his Snub Pistol, causing the Drone's head to explode with a shower of gore and brain matter. The one with the Longshot and the cake was next, and like the previous Drone, got three bullets imbedded into his head, killing him as well. The element of surprise was over.

The remaining two Locust charged Carmine in a swift, serpentine pattern, hoping that he would be unable to hit anything important with the sidearm. They were successful for the most part, with Grenadier taking only a simple grazing wound to his left shoulder.

The Grenadier delivered a straight punch to Carmine's face, staggering him for a moment, which was all that the Theron needed to a land a heavy left hook to the side of Carmine's head, causing him to fall.

Carmine quickly rolled out of the way of the Grenadier's kick. He was NOT trained for this shit! At this point, Naruto started to cry louder in his arms. 'Definitely not trained for this!' Carmine screamed in his mind. As he stood, Carmine tried to draw a quick bead onto the helmetless one, shooting once and scoring a second hit on the Grenadier's leg before the helmed one grabbed his firing arm and ripped the gun from Carmine's hand.

The Theron gave a raspy laugh and a sadistic grin as he cracked his knuckles menacingly. He threw a quick series of light punches at Carmine's face and body as he slowly turned. Carmine had great difficulty in keeping up with the blows, turning his body to get the best of his already sub-par defenses. Thankfully, his body armor was able to absorb a good chunk of the force behind the blows.

The Theron's actions allowed the Grenadier more than enough time to recover from the light injuries that he was given, and he joined the melee with sadistic glee and revenge burning in his eyes. The Grenadier sprinted towards Carmine with reckless abandon, delivering a surprise drop-kick to Carmine's back, dropping him to the ground and driving the breath from his lungs.

Carmine landed in a sprawl on the ground, barely able to shift his weight at the last moment to protect the infant in his arms. Naruto was really screaming now, and nothing could be done about it.

As Carmine tried to get to his feet, a heavy booted foot planted itself firmly on his back, forcing him back to the floor with a grunt. A second booted foot from the second Grub impacted his lowly armored kidneys. The force of the blow would have surely lifted him off the ground if not for one of the Locust holding him down with all their weight. The boot landed again in the same spot with a second devastating kick. Perfectly timed with the second Locust, the first jumped off of Carmine precisely when the second kick connected. With there being nothing pinning him to the floor, the kick lifted him off of the ground and rolled heavily to his back with a pained gasp.

Carmine did not get a moment of respite as the Grenadier attempted to deliver a diving elbow to his head, forcing Carmine to fight through his pain to dodge. He was able to stand weakly before he was sucker punched in the back of the head, knocking him forward and staggering him once again.

* * *

'This is bad, this is really, _really_ bad!' Carmine thought to himself as he continued to get his ass handed to him. The bare-chested Locust had disappeared a minute ago, and his lack of presence made Carmine incredibly anxious, especially since Locust were not known to retreat. He needed to escape, but the helmed Grub had blocked every attempt at fleeing with powerful fists. He had no idea where his weapons had gone, having lost his pistol at the beginning of the fight and the rest of his weapons in the minutes afterwards. He still managed to protect Naruto from any of the blows, but Naruto had gone and screamed himself hoarse out of fear.

Carmine heard something behind him and turned around. He was just able to get his free arm up to block the Longshot rifle from taking off his head as the Grenadier swung it at him like it was a high-tech club. He screamed as the rifle fractured at least one of the bones in his forearm. Carmine fell to both knees as he screamed again, cradling the now-useless limb to the Locust's sadistic amusement.

The Grenadier approached and then ripped the baby out of Carmine's failing grasp as he delivered a heavy knee to his helmeted face, shattering the protective lenses on his helmet and knocking back onto his back, where he lay stunned.

'Is this how I die…?' Carmine thought to himself, mind clouded and ears ringing.

He saw the Grenadier tossing the infant to the Theron, who grinned with a sickening smirk.

'I…. I couldn't protect him…. I couldn't protect any of them…'

The Grenadier stood over of his prone form, straddling and turned him around. His heavily calloused hands gripping the back of his head with both hands.

'Ben…. Anthony... Momma…. it looks like I won't be making it back after all…'

The Grenadier lifted Carmine's head, bringing his upper body off the ground as well. He slammed Carmine's skull into the cobblestone street, his helmet the only thing keeping his face from becoming a red smear on the rock.

'I guess…. I couldn't keep that promise to you…'

His head impacted the ground again and his helmet cracked down the middle. Carmine could hear Naruto scream in fear and pain. He was powerless to do anything about it.

'I'm sorry…' Carmine closed his eyes as the Grenadier lifted him up for what would be the final blow.

A frightened scream of pain let loose from behind to join Naruto's, and the Grenadier immediately stayed his hands to look at the source. The Grenadier let go of Carmine in a rush and turned to face this oncoming threat, whatever it might be.

Carmine felt a something heavy land on his back. It was leaking. Faint screams behind him. He had to get up, to keep his promise! He struggled to move whatever was on him. With his good arm, Carmine tried to discern what the object was. Warm… wet… it that a knee? Was a lower body on him?

What actually was a few minutes felt like hours as Carmine slowly pushed himself up. He turned around slowly as his head and arm radiating pain. What he saw next was something that he just couldn't comprehend, surely it was an illusion brought upon by his most certain concussion.

In front of him was the separated upper and lower halves of the Theron, torn asunder with internal organs strewn around the street. The Grenadier was being held ten feet above the ground, impaled by two golden chains which swayed gracefully in the air, much like the branches of a willow tree caught in a gentle breeze. Carmine slowly drew his gaze downward, following the swaying chains in amazement as the still living Grenadier struggled futilely to escape. The chains appeared to be coming from Naruto's infant chest.

Carmine's muddled thoughts came to a halt as the two chains, seemingly their own volition, jerked heavily in opposite directions, ripping the remaining Locust in two pieces. With two meaty thwaps, the fresh corpse fell to the ground.

As if the chains were sentient, they immediately reacted to Carmine's presence and quickly poised threateningly, like a tail of a scorpion ready to strike. Carmine merely stood there dumbfounded and wide-eyed. As if sensing no hostile intent, the chains slowly slide back into Naruto's body and disappeared as if they were never there.

Carmine slowly staggered to Naruto's whimpering form on the cold stone road. Small amounts of blood flaked his tanned face, surely creating an unsettling image for anyone without a head injury. Attempting bend down to pick up Naruto resulted in Carmine collapsing on his hands and knees. His head felt like it was swimming in Imulsion as his stomach simultaneously felt like it had just consumed the entirety of his father's liquor cabinet.

Fighting back the urge to vomit, Carmine tenderly picked up Naruto. There were only two more blocks to go until he hit the Centaurs. He could make it! One foot forward. Two feet forward. Like a wasted college student, Carmine stumbled away, a smile on his face and determination in his muddled eyes. He would keep his promise, for now and for always. He always did.

* * *

 _ **I would like to apologize for any errors in grammar, flow, etc. I did not have access to my usual reviewer and I am a stickler when it comes to people editing my stuff.**_

 _ **Also, I will be trying to update more often. Shouldn't be too difficult, looking at the time gap between chapters 1 and 2.**_


	3. Welcome to Illima

The Fourth Carmine, Ch. 3

 _ **Hello once again. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to write a review.**_

 _ **I still do not own Naruto or Gears of War.**_

 _-Port Farrall Hospital-_

Nikolai Symernov was a small man by Tyran standards; standing 5'4" and weighing no more than 130 pounds. While he was in his early fifties, his stress-wrinkle ridden face made him look twenty years older. He had an interesting life, albeit increasingly stressful. Nikolai was born in the north-most region of Pelles, the largest country on Sera during the Pendulum wars and a member of the former UIR (Union of Independent Republics). Growing up his family large family was poor, but thanks to lady luck and Nikolai's natural intelligence, he was discovered by the Pellesh government and was given a solid scholarship to the leading medical school in the country. Nikolai had plans to open up his own place of practice in the countryside until three of his siblings perished in a Gorasni hospital after being wounded in the Pendulum War. After personal investigation, Nikolai learned just how bad the medical care was on the frontlines for the soldiers. He had no other choice but to get a job in a hospital on the front to make sure that his now deceased siblings' experience would not be spread to other families. Prior to the Locust's complete destruction of Gorasnaya during the early days of the Locus War, he had become affluent due to his skills. He was a refugee and a nurse for the COG on the front lines of the Locust War. It was frustrating at the best of times, working with and saving those whose country his had been warring with for the past 79 years. At the worst of times… well, at least they weren't physically violent to him.

Many of the patients assigned to him often looked at him with fear or anger, sometimes a combination of both, whenever his voice was heard. Those who were less injured often refused to allow him to treat them, making his job quite difficult. Hey, he took an oath! He would NEVER harm a patient if it wasn't necessary to heal them! Sadly, that was not the most difficult part of the job. The sheer number of patients needing treatment had every single person in Port Farrall with even an ounce of medical training on their feet for at least 14 hours a day every day.

Today's job was mostly administrative: prepare injured and recovering COG soldiers to be transferred to one of the three hospitals in Illima, a large city in the south-east of Tyrus on the Jacinto Plateau. Their hospitals were much more capable and the city itself was much more secure. Nurse Symernov was to record all necessary information, such as dates of birth, hometowns of the wounded, injuries, medicinal allergies, etc. All this information would go Illima and the to the COG military heads, so that they could notify any family relations that the injured persons were being moved, as well as a general update on their condition.

Nurse Symernov's last group of patients were those with serious head injuries, many of which were comatose. He was not very familiar with this area of the hospital, seeing as his skill set was geared (pun intended) towards short term care and emergency treatments.

The comatose patients were easy enough, and Nurse Symernov didn't have to waste breath nor time nor energy explaining the situation, much to his relief. Some of the conscious patients of the ward were also relatively easy, simply staring at him with wide eyes as he spoke with his thick Pellesh accent. Whether or not they were listening to him or not was unknown, but he didn't really care. If they didn't listen, it wasn't his problem. It would be theirs once the big men in white came to move them.

Nurse Symernov's next patient was the oddest yet, due to the fact that there were two of them: a baby sleeping soundly on a teen's chest. Curious, Symernov snatched the two charts at the foot of the bed, wondering why such a child would not be at the maternity ward.

The first chart read as such:

 _Name: Clayton Carmine_

 _D.O.B: 22_ _nd_ _of Bloom, 17 BE_

 _Home Town: Belfaun_

 _Allergies: None_

 _Injuries: Severe concussion, Comminuted fracture in the right ulna, stable fracture of the right radius, single deep-puncture wound to the lower back, various other non-substantial injuries._

Ouch. Those injuries would take quite a bit of time to heal. Looks like the COG would be lacking a soldier for some time. Symernov's gaze shifted to the second chart, which read as such:

 _Name: Naruto Carmine_

 _D.O.B: 10_ _th_ _of Harvest 0 AE_

 _Home Town: Unknown, assumedly Jasper_

 _Allergies: None known_

 _Injuries: Minor fractures along rib pairs 6-8._

Symernov vaguely remembered hearing something about these two through what they called "the nurse grapevine". The story was told that this man wiped out a squad of Locust by himself with nothing more than a pistol whilst protecting the infant. He also apparently trekked halfway across Jasper with a rather severe concussion. Both claims seemed a little farfetched to Symernov, but he had no say in whether it was true or not.

This did not answer the question as to why the child was here in the coma ward. The friendlier nurses had mentioned that the child would wail constantly whenever he was away from the unconscious Clayton. To avoid this incredible annoyance, the maternity nurses had moved little Naruto to a bed by his apparent brother. There was zero evidence of blood relation between the two of them; no birth records, no bloodwork done, no nothing. There really wasn't time and the hospital at Port Farrall didn't have the most modern equipment or enough doctors and nurses to take care of non-necessary things. The only thing the doctors and nurses went by was the two had the same hair color and word of mouth.

By the time that Private Clayton Carmine had reached the evacuation zone in Jasper, he had become delirious from the combination of his injuries; word was that he collapsed just within arms reach of his fellow surviving Gears. Any and all questions asked of him were responded to with random phrases that made no sense, with the exception of one. When asked who the child was in his arms, Carmine responded with a weak utterance of "brother." His fellow Gears asked no further questions regarding the subject, and just like that, the Carmine Clan had another member.

-Several weeks later, Illima's Military Hospital-

Clayton Carmine wasn't having a fun time for the past two weeks. For instance, when the doctors finally decided that he could start moving about on his own, he occasionally suffered some blinding vertigo which left him with vomit on his shirt. The skin under the cast of his right arm constantly itched, and with no relief available, it was driving him insane! Lastly, the walls of his room in Illima's military hospital were pale white with absolutely zero interesting things to look at. His fellow patients sharing a room with him were a dreary bunch and were more interested in crying and moaning in pain and sadness to be of any good company. Ugh, how he hated it here!

Clayton's only solace came with a rather large pinch of salt: his family could visit him at least twice a week. His family's home in Belfaun was a solid six hours away from Illima. With his mother being the only member of the family with a driver's license, other than Clayton, they must have moved close by. There was no way, in any of the three hells, that his mother would _ever_ leave her ancestral home willingly. It could only mean one thing: Belfaun was destroyed. It was possible that everyone he knew was dead, save for his immediate family, his uncle, and his cousin from Halvo Bay. It was…. difficult, to say the least.

Belfaun was a medium-sized city with an agricultural base. His family owned sixty acres of land with a single farm house since before the Pendulum Wars which started 79 years ago or so. Here they grew onions, beans, and beets. They raised and sold pigs and sheep as well. The entire city was almost completely self-sustaining, needing only imports of Imulsion, salt, and a few other things. His house had two floors and a very sturdy basement/bomb shelter, just in case. The walls and roof were made of thick, solid wood and were completely handmade, much like the other homes in Belfaun. His family home had five bedrooms and two bathrooms, thankfully with indoor plumbing. His mother and father took the largest bedroom, five-year-old Anthony had the second smallest, three-year-old Benjamin had the smallest room, and Clayton had the middle room. The second largest room was reserved for guests who needed/wanted to stay the night. The ground floor held a rather large dining room and connected kitchen where his parents prepared meals. The front door led to the living room and took up most of the ground floor. Here, the Carmine Clan would entertain guests, tell stories, and occasionally watch a Vonner Bay Vandals Thrashball game. But no longer. The Locust stole their home from them, much like it had many others in the short seven months since Emergence Day.

During one of her earlier visits, his mother had told him that she and the other Carmines took residence in Uncle Rudrick's winter home on the North side of Illima. They still had a roof over their heads, unlike many of the less fortunate refugees pouring into the cities on the Jacinto Plateau. Clayton could scarcely remember Uncle Rudrick's Illima home, nor Uncle Rudrick himself. The last time Clayton remembered seeing him was over a decade ago, so he didn't know much. However, his father had spoken well of his brother, which would have to be good enough. Uncle Rudrick's son, Fredo, was a reporter for the COG, but that was pretty much all that Clayton knew about him.

Clayton's thoughts soon turned to the newest addition to the family: the baby he saved in Jasper, Naruto. When the two of them escaped from the dying city, Clayton had apparently told the doctors that Naruto was his brother. Clayton was incredibly disoriented at the time, so who knew what stuff came out of his mouth at the time? Surely not him! Thankfully, his cognitive abilities had been recovering well. Sure, he was still having periods of short-term memory loss and tip-of-the-tongue moments, but that mostly involved small stuff like what slop the hospital had served for him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner on occasion. His mother couldn't make anything that bad even if she tried! For the matter, neither could he!

His newest brother had been released into his mother's care a week ago, the handoff going peacefully as soon as Naruto reached Mama Carmine's experienced arms. While Clayton wasn't anywhere near the exchange during the proceedings, his mother had stated during their last visit that Naruto's big amethyst eyes lit up the second he saw her. Clayton chuckled at the memory; Mama Carmine had that effect on children.

A zombie-eyed nurse entered the room after a quick knock, rousing Clayton from his thoughts. The nurse had shoulder-length brown hair which hung limply from her scalp. Her face was unpainted and pale, a sign that she probably hadn't any spare time during her day for such menial and unimportant things such as sleep. The bags under her pale eyes only led credence to this assumption. She held a bucket of sudsy water and a large, square sponge that looked like it had seen many backs today already. It was bath time for those who could not do it themselves, whose numbers were as unfortunate as they were large. Thankfully, Clayton was not among their number. The nurse did not even give Clayton a passing glance as she stumbled to the far end of the room to start her duties.

'Sucks to be her,' Clayton thought with a grimace. 'Then again, it sucks for all of them…' Carmine spared a glance to the area in which the nurse had started. That area contained the worst-off of the lot, those injured so badly that the only thing able to overpower the smell of heavily used medical anti-septic and medical waste was the almost palpable feelings of self-pity, hopelessness, and despair. No one deserved to have their legs blown off. Nobody deserved to have their entrails spilled in front of them. No one deserved to watch their friends bleed out in their arms, trying desperately to hold on just a bit longer. If he didn't get out of here soon, he might just off himself to avoid the utter despair that threatened to completely choke the air out of his lungs with every moment.

\- Two months later (30th of Haze, 0 AE (30/12/0)) -

Clayton Carmine was free, finally free! Granted he was currently in a wheelchair being pushed by his mother, but he was on his way out! The week before his release was easily the longest week of his life, a single second felt like hours. His arm was in the process of healing in a cast, but at least he still had it. The doctor told him that the cast should be able to come off in a few months' time, maybe even less if he was lucky. However, it would be some time yet before he would be able to return to active duty, given the time needed to both recover and to rehabilitate.

As Clayton's mother pushed his wheelchair out of Illima's military hospital, he received his first glimpse of the city. It was…. big. Much larger than any city Clayton had ever been to. Ever. Not a single building in sight was shorter than six stories tall. Every building in sight was made of some sort of white stone, perhaps marble? Perhaps white-painted concrete? Clayton didn't know, he wasn't an architect nor a stone mason. Well-formed gray sidewalks sandwiched perfectly paved streets, on which various kinds of Tyran-made automobiles glided smoothly. The powerful stench of exhaust made Clayton's nose cringe, but it was a welcome change to the sterile aroma of the hospital he had been constantly exposed to for the past few months. The car that his mother was approaching was a small, four-door vehicle and looked to be at least thirty years old. It was probably inefficient in its Imulsion consumption, but nothing beat the inefficiency of the old junker his family used in Belfaun. At least his family still had access to a motor vehicle, otherwise the trek to his new home would be a long and laborious one due to his injured state. He doubted the hospital would just give a wheelchair away for free during wartime.

As the two Carmines reached the steps leading towards the street, Clayton stood with the help of his mother. He experienced small bout of wooziness, but he steadied himself with the firm hands of his mother. Soon after, Clayton was heading down the stairs while supporting himself on the guiderail with his left hand. His mother was a few steps behind him, ready to support him should his legs fail him once more.

Clayton was helped into the car's front seat by his mother, whom got into the driver's side of the vehicle. They both buckled in and were off. Much to Clayton's surprise, the car drove smoother than warm butter was spread on fresh toast. The smooth driving if his mother made this easily the most comfortable drive he had ever been on. Before he knew it, Clayton had dozed-off into a peaceful slumber.

Irma Carmine, or 'Mama Carmine,' as she was often called, was a large woman in nearly every way. She stood two inches over six feet tall, her shoe size was a men's twelve with everything else proportioned to match. Her muscles were toned, and their obvious density spoke of decades of hard physical labor; her broad shoulders were perfectly capable of carrying large quantities of long timbers and other such materials. What little skin that was showing was near-permanently tanned, showing clear evidence of long days of labor under the hot Seran sun. At a moment's glance, she appeared to be the hardest, toughest looking woman in Tyrus. Eyes of a rich dark chocolate sang a contradicting melody, however. The wrinkles on her face spoke of years of steady smiles and laughs. Her teeth, straight as can be, formed the perfect smile; one that she gave her first-born son as he laid sleeping in the passenger's seat of her 'new' car. As she approached an upcoming stop sign, she lovingly gave Clayton a soft squeeze on his shoulder with one heavily calloused hand. It wouldn't be long until they reached their new home.

Uncle Rudrick's Illiman home was in the northern outskirts of Illima proper; thirty minutes by car from the nearest hospital (which happened to be Illima's Military Hospital), thirty minutes on foot to the nearest public school, and if traffic was good, only 15 minutes away from the nearest bank by car.

Unlike the center of Illima, which was both more populous and more affluent, the buildings near/in the outskirts were much smaller with two or three stories being the average height. Unlike the well-sculpted areas of central Illima, the buildings on the outskirts were blocky and generally crafted with red brick or concrete. Every so often, stucco was used to add a more unique feel among the various neighborhoods. Paints used on the stucco varied from deep forest greens to whites, although 'cream' was the most popular.

Clayton awoke from his short car-nap as the engine cut out. Blurry-eyed, Clayton looked out the passenger-side window, which had doubled as a temporary pillow. He saw nothing but blurry colors and lines. Blinking several times in quick succession to clear the fog from his eyes, Clayton got his first sight of his new home. It would get some getting used to, that was for sure.

The two-story residence where the Carmine family was now housed was a red brick building with five concrete steps leading to two thick wooden doors hidden in a somewhat sheltered alcove which protected the doors from unpleasant weather. The doors had two square windows two feet by two feet on each door. A small front lawn was divided in two by a slightly worn concrete pathway which connected the sidewalk to the entry way to the house. There was no driveway, only two small parking spaces available on the street. One of which was occupied by a black minivan with rusting wheel rims. Clayton wasn't certain, but he could've sworn that he saw a few bullet-holes littering the rear bumper.

Whilst Clayton was checking out the outside of his new home, Mama Carmine exited the vehicle and rounded the front of the car to Clayton's door. As he wasn't doing it himself, she opened the door for him while extending her left-hand outwards to assist her first-born out of the vehicle, a hand which he graciously accepted.

As he was helped out of the car, no bouts of wooziness struck him, although the area where that exploding creature, which he later learned were known as "Tickers," had stabbed him ached a bit, but nothing that some stretches couldn't fix. Clayton leaned against his mother as they walked down the narrow concrete walkway towards the steps. As they ascended the steps, Clayton noticed something: there was no rampway to the entrance. While none of the Carmine family were truly reliant on wheelchairs, his father had a great deal of mobility issues caused by his rather severe injuries obtained during the Pendulum Wars.

His father, Ernst Carmine, had followed in his father's footsteps, who had followed in his own father's footsteps, and so on and so forth, all joining the COG military when they were of age. He and Irma had met during his first deployment to the northern front. The two hit it off almost immediately and eloped a few days after they returned from their tour of duty. After a nice promotion to lieutenant, Irma went into CIC, coinciding perfectly with her first pregnancy. Meanwhile, Ernst was still caught up with nationalistic zeal of his forefathers, signing up for a second deployment where he was stationed on the western Kashkur front. While taking part in an ambush in a joint Kashkuri-Tryan squad, Ernst had taken a stray Booshka round to the side. While he wasn't fully caught in the Booshka's kill-zone, unlike two of his squadmates, his left arm and leg were. The explosion disintegrated his left leg at the mid-femur and his left arm just above the elbow. The blast also broke several of his ribs, destroyed his ability to hear in his left ear, and ruined much of his vision in the same eye as well.

Despite the horror he and his squad experienced that day, three miracles broke through the thick fog of fear and despair for Ernst. Firstly, it was a miracle in and of itself that he had survived the blast at all, let alone the shock that followed. The second miracle came with the conveniently located squad medic who had been within ten feet of Ernst when the blast hit. The medic was not only very skilled and well-equipped, but they also had nerves stronger than the sides of a Centaur tank! Even then, the medic was barely able to keep Ernst alive. The third miracle was the fact that the Kashkuri-Tyran squad won the fight at all. The skirmish had turned into a massive shit show quickly after Ernst's injury, as the UIR forces received several squadrons of backup shortly after. It was through both sheer luck and the closeness of a nearby Tyran scouting squad they forced the UIR forces into retreat.

Two days after the battle, Ernst and the other wounded were air-lifted to an Ephyran hospital, all the while the battle for Ernst's life continued. The incredibly capable medical professionals at the Tryan capital were able to save his life. Nonetheless, Ernst Carmine had spent three years after his injury healing and being rehabilitated by various physicians. Given the extent of his injuries, however, he was no longer fit for any role in the military. Luckily, the COG military took care of their wounded veterans and payed for the vast majority of the hospital bills that Ernst had rung up, so the fledgling family did not fall into an immensely deep trench of debt they were unlikely to ever crawl out of.

Several prosthetics were available to Ernst with various degrees of functionality, some of which offered a great deal of mobility. However, those models were much too expensive for the Carmine family to afford. They were forced to procure lesser-functioning prosthetics. The arm prosthesis could be moved, but only by physically moving it with the remaining natural arm. The leg prosthesis wasn't much better. The knee of the prosthesis had very little give and wouldn't bend very far, so it was only useful for standing and walking. Any sort of activity that demanded a bending knee became a difficult chore, making ascending flights of stairs with steps numbering more than four frustrating. Descending stairs was rarely a problem. All in all, it was simply easier for the Carmine patriarch if there was a ramp involved.

The sight of a large staircase graced Clayton's vision as the great wooden doors opened. To the left of the stairs was a short hallway with wooden floors and faded, blue painted plaster walls. Through the illumination of the hallway's sole light fixture, Clayton saw two doors on the left-hand side, which was the only thing breaking the monotony of the hallway. Clayton had no time to explore the downstairs as Mama Carmine guided him up the stairs to the next section of the house.

The second floor of the house had more open space than the ground floor. A wood and glass door to the left of the stairs led to a small study, where Uncle Rudrick would most likely spend his off days reading or going over business documents. A small light shined through the window, indicating that Uncle Rudrick was probably in there. To the right was a door frame without a door, which led to a sort of sitting area. The room was furnished with two couches, able to sit five adults comfortably. A comfortable-looking, navy reclining chair sat in the corner of the room next to a curtained window. The flooring was hardwood, most likely oak, that covered all of the living with the exception of a three-colored ovular rug placed in front of a medium-sized tube TV. Connected to the living room was a small kitchen and dining area, much smaller than the one back in Belfaun. An ill-fitting refrigerator was squeezed into one corner of the kitchen. A small gas stove with three burners sat next to the sink where the remains of the Carmine clan's breakfast lingered, waiting to be washed. Other than that, however, this area was empty. Where was everyone?

"Anthony's at school, dear. Benjamin was feeling restless, so your father took him and Naruto on a walk to see the fire station." Mama Carmine mentioned as if reading his thoughts. "Rudrick's in the study. He's been working almost non-stop since Halvo Bay was destroyed," Mama Carmine continued.

Clayton grimaced at this. Small life insurance agencies rarely survived periods of war, especially when many with coverage die in one sitting. Trying to change the subject, Clayton asked, "What about Fredo?"

Mama Carmine paused for a moment before she shrugged. "I have no idea, he was never the most talkative person in the family. Maybe he's working?"

"Maybe… I suppose we'll find out later, right?" Clayton stated. The two of them continued through the house, passing two more rooms before reaching a doorway at the end of a hall. "How's Dad holding up? This place isn't exactly disability friendly…"

Mama Carmine paused as she reached for the door handle. "It has been… difficult for him. We will have to see if we can hire a contractor to make things better for him, but…. Well, we do not have a much income anymore," Mama Carmine said with a heavy sigh. "Chairman Dalyell cut back on military disability a few weeks ago."

"…Shit."

"Clayton, I know that the situation is not good, but please refrain from swearing around your old mother. I would not want to get the spoon out for you!" Mama Carmine reprimanded with a dreary smile as she opened the door. "This will be your room for now."

Clayton stopped cold, not even registering the door in front of him had been opened. No way did he want to get the spoon! He knew that she was probably joking, but he did not want to take that chance! "Sorry Mama…"

"It's okay Clayton, just don't do it again." Mama Carmine said with a small smile. "Now, you get settled in. You have a bit of unpacking to do!" At this, Mama Carmine gave her firstborn a strong, but gentle hug, planting a motherly kiss upon the top of his head before heading back down the hall.

Passing the threshold, Clayton got his first glance of the room that would be his. Steel-blue walls, a small closet was across from a queen-sized bed fit with hand-quilted covers. Above the bed hung a inscribed metal gear about the size of Clayton's fist. It was a typical symbol of Tyrus's main religion, Calcesism, which combined monotheism and a small amount Governmental worship. He would have to remember to take it down before he went to bed later tonight. A small desk and chair rested on the right side of the bed, complete with a small desk lamp. A decent sized dresser/mirror combination filled the space on the left side of the bed. Lastly, there was a small, barren bookshelf hiding in the last corner of the room. A switch to the side of the door switched on a reasonably bright overhead lamp. Like the rest of the house, the floor was a polished hardwood. Next to the bed were three smaller suitcases, holding all that remained of Clayton's things from their home in Belfaun.

Each of the suitcases were full, but not efficiently so. Clothing was thrown in and stuffed down in haste instead of neatly folded or rolled. It was obvious to Clayton that the Locust struck without warning, giving soon-to-be refugees little time to gather what they could and flee. There was little other than clothing packed in the suitcases. A few little league Thrashball medals from when he was younger, his high school diploma (which he was barely able to obtain), and a drawing that he made for his parents when he was twelve that his father had posted to the refrigerator immediately after Clayton presented it to them. That was right before Anthony was born, if he recalled correctly…

Clayton became lost in his memories as he started to robotically fold his clothes and store them in the proper areas. Vaguely, Clayton could hear the jingle of his mother's favorite game show coming from the television. The familiar sound brought a small smile upon his face. He supposed that some things never change. In his musings, Clayton almost missed a hand-sized object drop from an article of clothing that he had just picked up to fold. It landed on the wooden floor with a clatter. As Clayton bent down to retrieve the object, he was immediately struck with a bout of vertigo and fell to the ground on one knee. Taking a sharp inhale, Clayton rubbed his temple with his one good hand in an attempt to assuage the dizziness.

A few moments later, Clayton opened his eyes, conveniently setting his gaze immediately on the dropped object. On the ground lay a hand-sized pendant on a silver chain. A blooming white rose, shaded to perfect realism, took up the center of the piece. Underneath the rose lay two verdant-green leaves. Out of what would be the stem grew two pure white wings, expanding outwards and curling elegantly upwards to flank the rose. It was the symbol of Ilone, the Archangel of Peace. Gently picking up one of the many symbols of his family's faith, Clayton marveled at the craftsmanship. It was truly a well-made pendant, much like all symbols of the Archist faith, and one that had served him well. The pendant was a gift from his grandmother on his mother's side when Clayton was six. She had heard that he often experienced rather stressful dreams at night and gave him the pendant hoping that it would stave off the nightmares. It worked quite well, in Claytons opinion.

Before any other thoughts could cross his mind, a high-pitched shout of excitement sounded behind him. As he began to turn to face the source of the noise, Clayton was barreled into by a small child of no more than three years of age. The force the child's enthusiasm, mixed with the flat-footedness of Clayton resulted with both persons sprawled on the hard ground. With a groan, Clayton opened his eyes, hoping to learn the identity of his small assailant. Excitable blue eyes stared at him from underneath a shock of messy hair. His nose was small and adorable, perfect for booping. There could be only one person in his family: Benjamin Carmine.

"Clay-Clay's home! Clay-Clay's home!" Ben exclaimed excitedly, bouncing up and down on his eldest brother's chest.

"Heya Squirt," Clayton said with a happy/pained groan. While Ben didn't weight very much, the rough motions hurt Clayton's back. Thankfully, his father came to his rescue.

"That's enough, Ben. Let your brother breath, he's still healing." His father said in his deep tenor voice, filled with barely restrained mirth. Ernst Carmine was not a large man in any way, which often surprised people due to his deep voice. In his remaining arm rested little Naruto, who appeared to be tuckered out from his most recent adventure.

"Oopsie… Sorry Clay-Clay!" Ben said as he got off of Clayton's chest, only immediately giving him as big of a hug as a three-year-old could.

Clayton chuckled at this. Rolling over and standing up, Clayton patted his now second youngest sibling on the head, messing up Ben's hair even further. Despite Anthony's absence because of school, this was still a pretty great homecoming. Giving his father a somewhat awkward one-armed hug, Clayton glanced down at the symbol of Ilone that was still clutched in his good hand. With a smile on his face, he pocketed the pendant and made note to replace the gear above his bed with it later. Right now, he had family to catch up with.

* * *

 _ **Dossier: Religions of the COG, part one**_

 _The most common religion in Tyrus (and in the COG overall) in a monotheistic faith known as Calcesism. This religion has a Heaven, which is considered to be a better place, and a Hell, where those deserving linger until their penitence is complete. Holy men and women who exemplify the best traits of humanity or commit many great deeds in times of hardship are sometimes venerated and made into Saints by the Calces church and/or high government officials. Calcesism is closely linked with the COG government, and since the beginning of the Pendulum Wars as been used to promote the COG war effort. During this time, Calcesism promoted the belief that the COG leaders be seen as solid sources of morality. This faith is most often practiced at cathedrals in large cities, or at home in the smaller ones. The main principals of Calcesism include but are not limited to: faith in yourself and others, living a sinless life, and generally not being a dick to other people, even if they have wronged you. Sins include but are not limited to: Adultery, gluttony, avarice, and cold-blooded murder._

 _The various nations of the COG enjoy religious freedom of worship and have since the Era of Silence (roughly starting in 117 B.E.)._

* * *

 **Author's note(s)**

Calendar of Sera*

1) Storm, 37 days

2) Gale, 36 days

3) Hail, 36 days

4) Frost, 31 days

5) Ice, 32 days

6) Thaw, 30 days

7) Rise, 37 days

8) Bloom, 37 days

9) Bounty, 36 days

10) Harvest, 37 days

11) Heat, 36 days

12) Haze, 37 days

13) Brume, 35 days

Each month contain 10-day weeks

Emergence Day occurred on the 20th of Frost.

Seasons of Sera

Fall: Brume, Storm, Gale

Winter: Hail, Frost, Ice

Spring: Thaw, Rise, Bloom

Summer: Bounty, Harvest, Heat, Haze

* * *

 ** _My apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors. In regards to this fic, I've been focusing most of my efforts into creating a feasible map of the world, as there is not an official/canon one. This is harder than it seems, as they have given me very little to work with, with the exception of which nation borders which. In addition to this, I have been creating a religion from scratch for the Carmine family. Not very difficult, as I've done a great deal of similar world building for my D &D campaigns. I will give you more details about the base faith in my next chapter, as well as a possible dossier about Ilone if desired._**

 ** _Anyways, until next time!_**


	4. Getting Back At It

The Fourth Carmine, Ch. 4

* * *

 **OwO, what's this?**

 **An update!?**

 **I don't own Gears of War or Naruto.**

 **As always, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to PM me or write a review!**

* * *

Clayton's Journal, 35th of Brume, 0 A.E.

So, I found my old journal recently, if that wasn't obvious enough by me writing in it. Dad told me that I should start using it again, since it's a good way to make sense of all the crazy BS that's been going on. Felt that I might as well, seeing as there have been some _weird_ things going on recently.

Today is a good example. No, not because of the losing war from Ormordus'(1) ilk. (Granted, that is pretty weird seeing as us COG have been fighting non-stop for who knows how long, we're pretty damn good at it!) Today was strange because Chairman Dalyell announced over the radio that there would be no fireworks celebrating what would have been the new year. Dalyell claimed that "'the new year and its subsequent celebrations would now take place on the 20th of Frost, the day that the Locust emerged from the ground."' He went on to say that all the calendars would still mark the month of Frost as the fourth month of the year, despite the New Year's new start date. The Chairman claimed that this would bring some sense of normalcy to the madness we've fallen in to. Honestly? I think that the stress of the job is finally driving him nutters. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if he wound up in the loony bin.

Despite some issues with money, the family is doing good; Anthony is enjoying school and has been very well-behaved (compared to me at that age, at least). Benjamin has been pouting ever since he learned that there won't be any fireworks tonight. He's been pretty clingy since I came back. I like to put up an annoyed front, but I won't lie about how endearing it is. The newest edition to our family has been rather well-mannered for an infant, although his late-night crying has been really frustrating. But hey, that's kids for ya.

I haven't received any news of my friends from Belfaun, whether any of them got out or not. Given how things have been going, I doubt that I will ever hear from them again. To be fair, it's not like they would know where to find me anyway…

Anyway, I should probably stop writing before the meds kick in. My painkillers tend to make me a little loopy…

Clayton, out.

t(-.-t)

Clayton's Journal, 13th of Ice, 1 A.E.

Things are bad. Things are really, _really_ bad. Chairman Prescott announced over radio today that in five days, the Hammer of Dawn would be deployed in territory held by the Locust, maybe even the non-Locust infested lands that might become useful to them later. The Locust are nearly everywhere outside of the thrice-damned Jacinto Plateau! Are they going to obliterate everything?! There are people out there! Good, honest people! How many will die to protect the few? Surely the COG has some evacuation plans for these people, right? Surely they're going to try, right? They've got to!

Anthony and Benjamin don't understand what's going on, nor why all the adults are so ashen. Momma took them upstairs with her and Naruto; I can hear her trying to lead them through prayers, though they don't know the words, nor do I think they know why they're saying them. I'm not sure who they're praying to anymore. Uncle Rudrick and Cousin Fredo left the house immediately after the announcement, and I haven't seen either of them since then.

I can only hope that things turn out okay.

Clayton out.

t(-,-t)

Clayton's Journal, 1st of Thaw, 1 A.E.

Cousin Fredo returned to Ilima today after being missing these passed two weeks; half-starved with deadened eyes, covered in soot and smelling as if he hadn't bathed in days. I have never seen a look of such relief, anger, and worry as the one Uncle Rudrick held when reuniting with his son. Fredo ate out half the refrigerator before Momma forced him into the bath. When he got out, Momma and Rudrick asked him a slew of questions about his whereabouts. In a shaky voice, he told us. I wish he hadn't.

Apparently, after the announcement from the new Chairman aired, he had immediately grabbed his journalism supplies and booked it to The Iliman Chronical, Fredo's place of work, to borrow one of their news vans. Whether he got permission to use it or not, he didn't say. He took the vehicle to one of the supposed 'safe-zones' where refugees would supposedly go from the planned Hammer kill-zones. There, he claimed to have interviewed a thousand people. Pretty sure that he was lying, but I wasn't there, I don't know.

Fredo then told us about a decision that I'm sure will scar him for the rest of his days. He told us that on the day the Hammer strikes were to come down, he took his possibly-stolen van to Pyri, a city on the border of one of the supposed kill-zones, much to the dismay of his father. In a weary voice, Fredo said that it was the opportunity of a lifetime; no one had seen a Hammer of Dawn strike first-hand, let alone the aftermath of one. He wanted to be the first ever to record it.

He watched as the toxic sky-fire of the Hammer rain destruction upon the city. With grievous amazement, he watched as the few tall building Pyri had melted into acrid sludge; felt the indescribable heat scald his body. He watched as the homes of many COG citizens shattered and burned. There were no screams, only the sound of melting city. In the aftermath, Fredo had entered the city, searching through the wreckage. He described bodies encased in searing-hot ash, forever a reminder of what happened on that horrific day.

Those were his words, not mine. I'm glad that none of my brothers were present or conscious for this. Naruto's still a baby and Benjamin is young enough to forget, but Anthony knows things and remembers them well. Luckily, one of Anthony's neighborhood friends, Corbin…something(?), had invited him and Benjamin to his older sister's fourteenth birthday party. Dad took my brothers there, missing Fredo's return and his story by an hour or three. Dad gave me the option of going as well, but I felt that I would be intruding. I doubt that I would know anyone there anyway.

The four of them returned home about a half-hour before I started writing this entry. Naruto was unsurprisingly sound asleep with Benjamin and Anthony not far behind. Must've been a fun party, given the smiles on all of their faces when they came up the stairs. I'll ask them about it later.

It's getting late, but I feel the need to at least mention a few things. I don't need to take my pain medication anymore. Although my rehab has just started, I'm making pretty good progress. I don't know if I have the heart to return to the military after what happened… after what the COG did… I still have a few years of my service period left, but is it moral to fight for a government that was willing to take such extreme action against their own citizens?

Clayton out.

p.s.: Fredo apparently had to walk all the way from Pyri to Ilima. The trek itself is a _long_ way by foot. I don't blame him for taking so long.

Clayton out. (again)

t(-.-t)

Clayton's Journal, 5th of Rise, 1 A.E.

Ilima is pretty crowded nowadays, what with all the refugees. There isn't a whole lot of food around right now, and a lot of people are in a bad place. We're doing fine for the most part, although Fredo hasn't been eating all that well. I don't blame him, I doubt that I could walk away from what he saw and still have an appetite. Dad says that the price of milk, fruit, veggies, meat… everything, really, as gone up quite a bit. We never needed a food budget back in Belfaun, so I'm guessing that that's one of the reasons why we're blowing through money so quickly.

The COG got a lot of flak from what's left of its population. Who would've thought that melting most of the known world in a single night would cause a PR nightmare? The weather has been pretty cold since then. Scientists on the radio have been telling us that it's because of ash clogging out the sun light or something like that. We don't know how many people where killed by the Hammer strikes, but I can only pray that they killed more Locust than humans.

I'd like to end this on a good note, not that there are many of those worth mentioning nowadays. Rehab is going well and I'm regaining muscle mass rather well. It's still pretty weird when I compare my arms though. Anthony says that I look ridiculous, the little brat.

Ugh, I'm too tired to write more. I was on baby-duty last night, and Naruto did _not_ take it easy on me. I swear, no matter how many times I have to do it, it never easier and less gross.

-Clayton out.

t(-.-t)

Clayton's Journal, 4th of Bloom, 1 A.E.

Alright, good news, bad news, good news, and worse news. Good news: Momma and Dad both have jobs again. Dad got a job as a teacher's aid at the local middle school. Yeah, it doesn't pay very well, but it's a job that he can physically do. Momma got her job as a COG dispatch officer back. She tells me that she's pretty good at it and that it's a well-paying job, so at least now we aren't losing money like a stuck pig loses blood. Bad news: Both Momma and I work for a government who willingly uses weapons of mass destruction on themselves. Yay. Good new again: my arm is almost healed enough to back into active duty if need be. Worse news: yeah, the need be.

Turns out that the Hammer strikes didn't win us the war like Chairman Prescott, and everyone else, had hoped. Given the lack of attacks and Emergence Holes springing up everywhere up until a few days ago, it's possible that the Hammer strikes did put a sizable dent into the Locust forces. The scorched earth thing the government did might have slowed them down too. In any case, the Grub asshats are back and killing whatever they can.

War sucks,

Clayton out.

t(-.-t)

Clayton's Journal, 7th of Bloom, 1 A.E.

Once again, good/annoying news and bad news.

The better news first. While exploring the ground floor of our apartment, Anthony found a piano. You might ask, "Clayton, how the hell does no one not notice a freakin' piano in your home?!" Well, I'm not the most observant person, alright? Plus, all of us adults are too busy to be messing around in areas we aren't usually in. I'm honestly not sure what Uncle Rudrick has been doing with his spare time these days. Drinking, maybe? He doesn't really leave his office too much anymore. Cousin Fredo has thrown himself into his work and is rarely home. He's been trying to avoid covering the war as best he can, which has made finding easy work difficult. Momma and Dad are too busy with my siblings and their own jobs to really explore the house, and I've been busy with physical therapy to do any real exploring.

Yeah, so Anthony found a piano. The annoying part is that he won't. Stop. Playing it. If the damn thing wasn't out of tune and if Anthony actually knew what he was doing, it would probably be bearable. No one in this family enjoys waking up to keys beings hammered and shrieking laughter of a six-year-old at 0400. Why can't my brothers be asleep at a reasonable time? Naruto has been the only one of them who's been sleeping through the night consistently in the past week, I swear! And he's a literal baby! The irony is annoying.

Okay, to the bad news. My last day of physical therapy is in two days. In three, I will be getting shipped off to the front lines. They'll be providing me with a replacement to my old helmet, this one with a bit more padding. Hopefully this'll prevent another concussion. Those things fucking suck!

I might seem a bit… what's the word? Cavalier? Yeah, that. I might seem like I'm not taking this seriously, but I am nearly sick with worry right now. I don't know how long I will be away from my family. I don't know what I'll see. I don't know what I'll end up doing. I don't know whether I'll be coming back at all. All of this just… well, there really isn't anything I can do about it anyway.

Clayton out.

t(-.-t)

In the early hours on the 10th of Bloom, Clayton Carmine found himself sitting alongside 30-some other Gears on their soon-to-be crowded transport with his rucksack on his lap and new helmet in his hands. The armored men and women around him looked green, both in combat experience and with worry. Most of them were quiet, although there was a pair near the front of the bus who spoke openly and excitedly about finally seeing combat. Clayton ignored them the best he could.

Their transport was not military grade. It was a dark gray school bus repurposed into an armored transport. Inch-thick steel plates were welded onto the sides and a clear, hard plastic had been applied to each window. While he sincerely doubted their ability to stop a Hammerburst round, Clayton was glad he could still enjoy the view when they eventually got moving.

Outside stood the families and friends of the Gears around him as well as his own. His momma stood stone-faced at the front of the crowd, one hand taken by the drowsy Benjamin and his fireworks blankie. In the other hand, his momma held young Naruto, wide awake despite the early hour. His father stood stagnant next to them with the teary-eyed Anthony holding their father's only real hand. All their eyes remained locked on Clayton. There had been no goodbyes between them. There were never 'goodbyes' between them. It was always 'see you later', or 'see you soon', or any of the other million ways to say that you're leaving. 'Goodbye' implied that they would never see each other again, and Clayton would try his best to make sure that he would come back, that he would always come back. It was a promise of a lifetime, and Carmines don't break their promises.

Clayton waved to his family as the last of the Gears found their way onto the bus and into the last remaining seats. Anthony was the only one to properly wave back. Benjamin had apparently fallen asleep standing up. Naruto was swaddled and couldn't move his arms even if he had somehow figured out what the action meant, and his parents had their arms too occupied for a proper wave; they tried anyway.

As their transport lurched forward, Clayton was blindsided by a sudden ironic revelation. Clayton began to chuckle softly, heard only by himself and the pale-skinned, fair-haired Gear who had sat down next to him moments before the engine started.

"What's so funny?" the Gear asked.

Clayton smiled and turned to his seat partner. "Heh, nothing. It's just funny. It's the first time I've ever been on a school bus, and it's heading towards war." Clayton looked down at the helmet in his hands. "Kinda ironic, isn't it?"

"I s'pose so. Homeschooled?"

Clayton shook his head. "Naw, I lived pretty close to my schools growing up. Only a couple miles away, so I walked."

The Gear stared with what Clayton would imagine as a shocked expression, (kinda hard to see it with a helmet in the way, hence the imagining), as Clayton's chuckles quieted down.

"Anyways, name's Carmine. Pleasure to meet you!" Clayton extended his right hand.

"Likewise," the Gear responded, grasping Clayton's hand with his own, giving it a firm shake. "Name's Montz, Robin Montz."

The first hour of the trip held little but idle and polite conversation. In the second, the Sergeant at the front of the bus got on the intercom. The Sergeant, a short, gruff woman in her mid fourties, spoke out in an even gruffer voice.

"Alright youngins! Listen up 'cause I'll only be saying this once! In three hours, we will reach our destination! There, you will all depart to your assigned rally point to meet up with your new squads. I will be distributing all the information you'll need in after this!" The Sergeant paused, looking out over the mostly green faces before her before continuing. "I wont lie to you here, the zone we're going to has been hit several times in the past two days. As chances have it, you will all see combat sooner rather than later. If we end up dropping hot… well, lets just hope this bucket of bolts holds up!"

"Well, that's reassuring," Montz whispered over the worried murmuring of the other Gears.

"Alright, we'll go in alphabetical order!" The Sergeant said, exchanging the intercom for a stack of sealed manila folders. Projecting her voice, she continued. "When I call your name, get your come and get your orders."

Pulling the first folder from the stack, the Sergeant announced, "Carmine, Clayton!"

Helmet in hand, Clayton quickly maneuvered his way to the front and back, wondering if it was merely luck, coincidence, or convenience that there was no one with an 'A' or 'B' last name on the bus with him. He quickly tore open the sealed manila folder after retaking his seat. Ignoring the standard information, (name, rank, ID number, etc.), Clayton got right into the meat of things; a map of the city, four photographs of his team along with their names and ranks, and where they were meeting.

'Thames, huh? Never heard of it…' Clayton thought to himself. It was apparently a smallish town near the Kashkuri border. It had some agriculture, but not enough to make it a major target. Not that the Locust cared, so it seemed. He was to meet his team near the mayor's office, which has been partially repurposed for military purposes.

The first photograph depicted a man in his early thirties. Dark gray buzzcut, thin but wiry build, taller than Clayton by a good five inches. The picture showed hazel eyes glaring hard at the camera, lips drawn in a thin scowl. A small goatee and some acne scars on his left cheek fleshed out the photo. The name near the top read 'Private Rood, CQCS.'

The second photograph was of their squad leader; one 'Corporal Shaun Baes'. It depicted a small man in their early thirties much like the previous Gear. However, his expression was far more relaxed than Rood's. An easy-going toothy smile, shaggy black hair, warm black eyes, and a round, smooth face. He was of average height and weight, from what Clayton could tell.

The third photo showed a… less than pretty face. While the face was androgynous, their facial expression and body language spoke of barely stifled, long-term rage. A bright red scar ran from the center of their forehead to the tip of their razor-sharp chin in a near straight line. Where hair would have been, instead were poorly inked color tattoos. Clayton couldn't think of any respectable tattoo parlor that would allow an artist with that level of skill to work there. The name to the face was 'Private Ivica Wvazls, Scout'.

The last photo was of a Kashkuri woman around his age. She had shoulder length black hair, playful dark eyes, and a cocky smirk. She stood partially facing the camera in a stand-offish manner with a few Bolo grenades over thin shoulders. Squinting, Clayton could see a dark green bandana hidden underneath her hair. The name read 'Private Samantha Byrne, Demolition'.

As he placed the photographs back in the folder, Clayton could only hope that this squad would fair better than his previous one.

* * *

 ** _Dossier: Religions of the COG, part 2: Archism._**

 _Archism is a religion that originated in Kashkur during the Silver Age of Sera approximately 700 years before E-Day. A rather popular religion in its time, the Archist faith has since declined immensely due to various reasons and is rarely practiced outside of rural communities in eastern Tyrus and Silver Age cities in south-central Kashkur. The religious texts, those that still exist, are creatively known as "The Archives". Momma Carmine and her sons follow this faith._

 _Silver is a highly important material in Archism, and all artifacts, books, etc., all contain pure silver. Because of this, many Archist artifacts were destroyed or lost during times of economic troubles caused by war._

 _There are several different sects of this faith, but the differences between the sects are primarily about death and geists/spirits. There is no God in the Archist faith. Instead, there are four types of beings whom are worshiped or warned against: Angels, Daemons, Geists/Spirits, and Endra._

 _While not necessarily good or evil, Angles generally act as benefactors to humanity. Early in the Archives, Angels most often find fought against the Daemons. In later texts however, their main prerogative is to protect the faithful from each other and the mysterious Endra. The angels are separated into five groups, each led by an Archangel, who are the epitome of the groups' beliefs. The Archangels are more powerful, intelligent, etc., than the angels in their flight. These Archangels are all in council with each other, debating the best ways to help humanity. The Archangels still worshiped or followed in modern times are Ilone, Sigran, Rohanna, Anya, and Thalia. These Archangels epitomize Peace, Truth, Wrath and Justice, Hope, and Protection respectively. Ilone is the only truly 'Good' Archangel._

 _The Daemons represent the less virtuous aspects of humanity. They are generally enemies of the angels, but they are not necessarily bad nor good. Like the angels, the daemons are separated into different groups, each led by an Archdaemon. There are only three Archdaemons listed in what is left of the Archives; Emran, Archdaemon of Perfection, Belgrax, Archdaemon of Avarice, and (1)Ormordus, Archdaemon of Slaughter. Ormordus is considered to be the only truly 'Evil' Archdaemon._

 _Much like everyone else, Angels and Daemons are fallible, and it is not uncommon for them to fall from grace. However, it is exceedingly rare that any of the 'Arches' to do so. As of Archist canon, only three Archangels have ever fallen. Raxat, formerly the Archangel of Knowledge, Melsoran, the former Archangel of Justice, and Damia, formerly the Archangel of All Love. The tales of these three former Archangels serve as cautionary tales for all involved in the Archist faith, Daemons and Angels included._

 _Geists/Spirits are the consciousness of the deceased given form. Here lies most of the controversy amidst the different sects of Archism: why do they exist, what do they do, and where do they go? Some believe that the consciousnesses follow the flights of Angels and Daemons that most fit their lives. Others believe that the Geists/Spirits do not leave the mortal plane at all, lingering near family, friends, or even enemies. Others believe that these Geists/Spirits move onwards to the newly living in something akin to reincarnation. In any case, there is no physical infighting between the different Archist sects. Much like the Archangel Council, they prefer to spend their time in 'friendly' debates._

 _The Endra are a mystery to the Archists. They are believed to be agents of the prophesized apocalypse. What little that_ is _known about them can be found in the 'Tale of Raxat', the final Tale in the Archives._

* * *

 _ **Author's Notes**_

 **Hello everyone! Guess who isn't dead! That's right, it's me!**

 **So, I would like to say that the reason that this update took so long is because I've been slaving over it day in and day out, trying to make everything perfect for my own sake and your reading pleasure. Unfortunately, that is not the case...**

 **For two months, I felt like I was bashing my skull against a metal wall trying to push through the first 2,000 words. The journal time-skip thing I was doing was just getting no where. Soon enough, I lost interest in this fic completely. I changed fandoms, and quickly found myself writing three separate fanfictions at the same time. Needless to say, they haven't gotten beyond scribbles on notepads (except for one, but that's neither here nor there). _The Fourth Carmine_ was forgotten...**

 **Until recently.**

 **At this point, I would like to give a shoutout to , who reminded me that, A) that this fic existed, and B) people still read it, are still interested in it, and have been waiting for a LONG time for an update. Thanks to them, I got off my ass and continued writing this, busting head-first through my writers block and here we are.**

 **By next chapter, Naruto will start to actually do stuff. I can't tell you what he'll be doing yet, but there will be shenanigans!**

 **I would also like to point out that I had to re-write these author's notes twice. Always save your work!**

 **I will do my best to update again soon, especially now that I've got wind in my sails again.**

 **Also, do you think that the journal thing worked? Should I do it again? (I shouldn't get a block as bad as the last one this time if so!)**


End file.
